Mademoiselle               remembers too well             How once she was belle of the ball Now the past she sadly recalls.     Mademoiselle lived in grand hotels Ordered clothes by Chanel and Dior Millionaires queued at her door.      Oh, she pleased them and teased them She hooked them and squeezed them Until like their empires they'd fall and she very soon learned That the more love she spurned The more power she yearned Until she was belle of the ball. Oh, Mademoiselle, such a soft machiavel Would play bagatelle with the hearts of young men as they fell       Mademoiselle      de rester fidele Car son reve d etre belle est ???? Son amour si frele       Elle a offert son corps Elle n avait pas vraiment tort Et tant pis pour ceux Qui se croyait les plus forts Amour desabuse ??? Plus rien ne l'amusait De cette putAin de vie il ne reste que quelques regrets Mademoiselle,    Long ago said farewell To any love left to sell, for the sake of being belle of the ball Mademoiselle     knows there's no way to quell Her own private hell, just a shell, With no heart left at all.       Poor old Mademoiselle. Still a Mademoiselle.